


She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not

by BatsAndHawks



Series: Nessian Modern AU [1]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Heavy Angst, Pregnancy, So much angst, Stillbirth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 02:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9528704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatsAndHawks/pseuds/BatsAndHawks
Summary: It started with a drinking competition between Cassian, Rhys and Azriel.Alcohol made Cassian loose-tongued. In the end, that was what caused everything to happen. A horrible, unspeakable chain of events. One that neither Cassian nor Nesta could have predicted.A.K.A. The angsty Nessian modern au that no one wanted but they’re going to get.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I’m in the process of writing a version of my fic Come Home from Rhys’s POV, which a few of you asked for, but the other day this came into my head and I couldn’t stop myself...I apologize in advance.

_Thwack._

_Thwack._

_Thwack._

_Thwack._

Running is Nesta’s escape. The rhythmic beating of her tennis shoes on the cement pavement never fails to erase all thoughts and anxieties from her mind.

_Thwack._

_Thwack._

Her glowing digital watch reads 2:03 AM. The dim streetlights are the only thing that illuminate her way through the dark and silent subdivision where her apartment is.

_Thwack._

_Thwack._

By the time she circles around the subdivision and opens the door to her apartment, her watch reads 3:12. As Nesta drops her keys in the bowl by the front door, she lets out a satisfied sigh. 1 hour and 9 minutes. Every night her insomnia never fails to bring her out of bed, and each run has been getting faster and faster. _Good_ , Nesta thinks. _I’m finally getting my endurance back, after...no, no, don’t think about that_. She shakes her head as if to rid it of unwanted thoughts, and makes her way through her dark apartment to the couch. _I’ll sit down, just for a moment before I shower._ But seemingly instantaneously, her eyes fall closed and and her heart rate slows. Within a few short minutes, the darkness pulls her under into a restless, dreamless sleep.

…………………………………….. 

When Nesta wakes up, the world is shaking. No, not the world. Just her.

“Nesta. Nesta! C’mon, I need to talk to you.” Her sister, Feyre, is in her apartment, shaking her awake. “Rise and shine, Nesta.” 

“Go away,” Nesta mumbles without opening her eyes, rolling over on the couch. 

“Nope! The sun is shining and the day is new. I’m making you breakfast!”

“No,” Nesta says. All of the sudden, the world spins, there’s a loud thud, and when Nesta opens her eyes, she is looking at Feyre’s bare feet. “What the fuck? Did you seriously just push me off of the couch?” Feyre cracks up. “Are you kidding me, Feyre?”

“S-sorry, just, just the look on your face…” At this point, Feyre is laughing so hard that she can barely stand up straight.

“You’re insane. I’m going to kill you,” Nesta growls, pushing herself up from the floor.

“No you won’t,” Feyre says giddily, “C’mon, get up and shower – you absolutely _stink_ , by the way – and when you’re done I’ll have breakfast ready.

“And to what do I owe this so gracious visit?”

“I’ll tell you over some bacon and pancakes.”

“Feyre…”

“Up, Nesta. Now! Seriously, if I have to smell your stale sweaty body odor for five more seconds I’ll never be able to smell anything else in my life.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine. I’m going,” Nesta grumbles, stumbling down the hall towards her bathroom. She snatches a pair of clean sweatpants, fresh undergarments, and an oversized t-shirt out of her small closet, before heading into the bathroom and stripping out of her running clothes that are sticky with dried sweat. It takes a few moments for the shower water to heat up, but while it does Nesta stands in front of the mirror, quietly observing herself.

Observing the dark purple bags under her eyes. The washed out pallor of her skin, and the way that her cheekbones stick out in a sharp way that they never used to. She can even count each and every one of her ribs. And below her ribs...are the remnants and scars of what happened. The fading red marks reaching from one side of her stomach to the other. People told her that there would be stretch marks. But what they didn’t tell her was that no matter how hard you wanted them to go away, how much lotion you put on them, they never left. And you could never forget.

It’s only when the mirror starts to fog up that Nesta realizes that the shower is plenty hot by now. She steps under the deluge of water, letting the steam and heat wash away her thoughts.  

……………………………………..

By the time she is out of the shower, dry, and dressed in her fresh clothes, Nesta can smell cooking bacon wafting down the hall from the direction of the kitchen. She steps out of the bathroom and heads down the hallway, but stops short when she catches sight of a certain door.

The second door on the right. The door to the spare bedroom.

The reason that she hasn’t walked down to the kitchen in months, the reason why all she does is either grab takeout or not eat at all, and then run herself into exhaustion when sleep evades her.

She can’t walk by that room. She hasn’t opened its door since before she got home from the hospital.

Nesta still hasn’t moved, it’s like her feet are stuck to the ground. Her eyes are still glued to the closed door. Images flash before her eyes. Bright blue walls, painted to look like a sunny sky. An old rocking chair. An unused changing table. A tiny crib, its soft pink sheets tucked in and untouched. A small stuffed bat resting on a pillow.

“Nesta? You okay?” Feyre appears in the kitchen doorway at the end of the hallway, a plate of bacon in one hand and a plate of pancakes in the other.

“Y-yeah. I’m fine,” Nesta says, clearing her throat and quickly wiping at the moisture under her eyes that she hadn’t even realized had gathered there. She finds that she can move again, and walks towards the kitchen, making an obvious effort not to look at the door again.

After sitting down, taking only one pancake and one piece of bacon and barely nibbling at either, Nesta speaks up.

“So, why are you here this morning? You said it was for a reason?”

“Yes...Nesta, can you _please_ come out with us tonight? It’ll just be me, Rhys, Mor, Amren, and Az. Nowhere special, just Rita’s.”

“No.”

“Ness, you have to go out sometime. You can’t just stay cooped up in here forever.”

“I can. And no.”

“ _Nesta._ ”

“ _Feyre._ ”

“Listen,” Feyre says, hesitating for a moment, “You know we’re all worried about you, and we’ve barely seen you since...it happened, and–”

“Well, you’ve no reason to worry. I’m fine. Completely fine. You’ve made your point. Leave. _Please_ ,” Nesta says firmly, standing up quickly and snatching her uneaten plate from the table.

“Nesta. Please, just this once? Rhys and Mor and everyone are really worried about you. At least just stop by for a few minutes to say hello." 

Nesta pauses and lets out a sigh. “Fine. But I’m only stopping by, and not staying for food. Five minutes. That’s it.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Feyre smiles softly and squeezes Nesta’s hand, before helping her clear the table. She heads out soon after, with the excuse of having errands to run, but Nesta knows she just misses her fiancée, Rhys.

………………………………………

It was almost noon when Feyre finally left, and Nesta doesn’t have to meet her outside of Rita’s until 6. So, Nesta wastes her time doing...virtually nothing. She cleans the house, tries to watch TV but can’t find batteries for the remote, and tries to read but her eyes keep skimming the same paragraph over and over again. She ends up going for another run, and showers again just in time to leave for Rita’s. 

The drive to Rita’s is short, and Nesta pulls into the parking lot with 10 minutes to spare. Instead of going in and awkwardly looking around, hoping at least some of them are already seated, she decides to wait for Feyre.

Two minutes pass. Nesta turns up the radio and leans back in her seat, closing her eyes. All she can think is, _what am I doing here? I don’t belong here anymore, with them, pretending like everything's normal and okay. Nothing is normal anymore, and it’s certainly not okay._ It seems only seconds later that a loud knock on the window next to her head brings her out of her troubled reverie. It’s Feyre, of course.

Nesta silences the radio and turns off her car, pocketing the keys and stepping out. Feyre greets her with a bright smile.

“You made it! Let’s go, Rhys texted me to say that everyone is already inside.”

Nesta follows her silently but diligently, willing to give into her sister this once, if it means Feyre will leave her alone for at least a little while. They step through the doors of Rita’s small restaurant, and are immediately greeted by a familiar waitress who guides them toward a large table in the back.

That’s when Nesta sees him. She freezes five feet away from the table.

Tanned skin wrapped around a muscular form. Dark hair tied in a bun behind his head, and a broad grin directed towards Azriel.

It’s him. Cassian. He’s back.

Nesta and Cassian had been best friends since they were in diapers, but friends with a few...added benefits since the middle of high school.

There had never been any problems regarding the sexual part of their relationship. Before it started, they both agreed that it didn’t mean anything. If either of them met someone they wanted to date seriously, their relationship would return to being strictly platonic. The purpose of their...relations...was only to relieve tensions.

At least, that’s what Nesta had always told herself. She had never considered that she might actually fall in love with Cassian. She had scoffed when she realized it. Nesta, the ice queen, in love. Of course, she refused to say a single word. She knew there was no way that Cassian could feel the same, and saying anything would jeopardize both the agreement they had made when they had started having sex, and their relationship itself. Nothing was worth risking that. Not even her feelings. So for two years, Nesta kept quiet. She kept herself so disciplined that when the time finally came for her to speak up, she couldn’t say a word. 

It started with a drinking competition between Cassian, Rhys and Azriel.

Alcohol made Cassian loose-tongued. In the end, that was what caused everything to happen. A horrible, unspeakable chain of events. One that neither Cassian nor Nesta could have predicted. 

 

_“Go, go, go!” They’re both breathless with laughter and anticipation as Cassian fumbles to get his keys in his apartment door. They had just had an awkward encounter with their elderly neighbor in the elevator, who had...found them in a somewhat compromising condition._

_Nesta has her hands up his shirt and her lips on his neck._  

_“Shit!” He drops the keys again. Cassian’s mind is numb, all he wants to do is shove Nesta against the door and forget about the problem of public indecency. Nesta’s hands are leaving little trails of fire on his skin as she strokes along his torso. When he bends over to pick of the keys and finally, finally, open the door, her nimble little fingers trace a path up his spine._

_It seems like a millennia until he is finally able to get the door open, but when he does, it’s slammed shut and Nesta is pinned up against it in seconds._

_Their lips collide instantaneously. It’s messy, fully of clashing teeth, tongue, and roaming hands. “Bedroom, now,” Nesta says in between kisses. Cassian wastes no time, carrying her to the bedroom and stripping off both of their clothes._

_This is how it’s always been between them. Easy, efficient, no strings attached. That would change tonight. Everything would change._

_Things progress quickly after their clothes are off. In fact, they progress quickly for a second round. And a third. It’s only after they collapse back onto the bed in a half-drunk, sex-addled stupor, that Cassian lets it slip. Nesta has her head on his shoulder and her arm draped over his waist._

_“God, I love you,” Cassian murmurs. Nesta stiffens and pulls back. Cassian’s eyes widen, as if he’s suddenly realized his mistake. “I-I mean…”_

_“Cassian…” Nesta’s heart is racing. Those words are all she’s wanted to hear out of his mouth for almost two years. But her tongue feels like it’s been slathered in peanut butter. She tries to force the right words out of her mouth, but she can’t. All she manages is a soft “Cassian, we said…”_

_“No.” Cassian says sharply. “I won’t take it back. I can’t-I can’t keep holding it in like this.” He closes his eyes, as if readying himself for a blow. “I know this might ruin whatever we have between us. But I can’t go on as if what I feel towards you doesn’t exist.” He takes her hands in his, propping himself up on his elbow. “Nesta Archeron, I’m in love with you. And I have been. For a very, very long time.”_

_Nesta is silent. Again, she tries to force the words out of her mouth. All she can see is the last time she said the words “I love you”. When her mother lay in her hospital bed, pale as the sheets she lay in and taking her last breaths. Her mother wasn’t alive in the next moment to say “I love you too,”. The pain Nesta felt then, when the monitor fell into one long, steady beep, was indescribable. And it was when she began constructing those walls of ice around her heart. To keep from feeling that type of pain again._

_Cassian is still laying there, looking expectantly into her eyes._

_“Cassian, I…”_

_“Please, Nesta, tell me you feel the same way. Tell me you feel the same way, and that the softness I’ve seen in your eyes wasn’t just a game. Please.” Cassian is laying himself wide open in front of her._

_“Cass, I can’t, I don’t...”_

_He lets out a shuddering breath and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, any vulnerability left in his eyes is long gone. His face is hard and withdrawn. His hands leave hers, and he gets up from the bed, pulling on his clothes._  

_“Cassian, wait.”_

_“It’s okay Nesta. I don’t want you to say something you don’t mean. My flight for my European exchange trip is tomorrow morning. I’ll see you when you get back.”_

_“Cass–” But he is already gone. His semester-long exchange trip ends up being extended to a full year in Europe._

_She calls him that night. 7 times. She calls him the next morning. 10 times. She calls him the day after that, and the day after that. She calls him 15 times on the morning that she finds out she’s pregnant with his baby, most likely conceived on the night he left. He never picks up. Not once. Eventually, she gives up. But she calls him one more time. On the day that her baby was stillborn. He doesn’t pick up the phone then either._

 

“Nesta?” Feyre’s voice shakes her back to the present. “I’m sorry, I know I probably should’ve told you he was back, but I knew you wouldn’t come otherwise.”

Nesta says nothing. Her eyes meet Cassian’s across the table. Icey blue aginst brown. And then she simply turns around, and walks back out of the restaurant.

She doesn’t head for her car. Instead, she walks around the side of the building and into the quiet alley beside Rita’s. She leans against the brick wall and sinks to the pavement, her head clutched in her hands. _Breathe. Breathe. In, out, in, out,_ she tells herself. She swallows the sob rising in her throat. _Why now? Why me?_

Heavy footsteps enter the alley, and a familiar voice reaches her ears. “You look like shit." 

Nesta stiffens. “Thanks,” she growls, standing up but not looking up at him.

“I’m serious Nesta,” he says, concern leaking into his voice. “You look like you haven’t eaten or slept in months.”

“Like you care.”

He sighs. “I do, Nesta. I just needed space." 

“Space to do what?” 

“To get over you. Because you didn’t feel the same way, and I didn’t want to lose our friendship.” 

“And how did that work out for you?”

“Not very well.” 

Nesta scoffs, trying to hide the pain that is building inside her chest. All she can think of when she hears his voice is her little girl.

“Can’t you at least look at me? Is the crime of falling in love with you too horrible to earn even a glance?”

She still refuses to look up. “You didn’t answer my calls.” 

“I told you, Nesta. I needed space.” 

“Well, I needed you.” 

“Oh, c’mon. You’ve never needed me, we both know that.”

“I did. I needed you this time. And you weren’t there.”

“Nesta, what are you talking about?”

“You knocked me up.”

“Excuse me?!”

“You heard what I said. You knocked me up. You got me pregnant.”

“You’re pregnant? I mean-I guess you aren’t anymore, it’s been a year-I mean, are you okay? Did you keep it? The baby?”

“Yes. I didn’t get an abortion, if that’s what you’re asking.”

At this, Cassian seems to choke up. “That means, I-I have a _child_?”

Nesta is silent for several moments, gathering herself. “No.”

“What? But I thought you said–”

 “I know what I said. I told you, I decided to keep the baby. But the baby didn’t want to stay.”

“You,” Cassian’s voice breaks, “You miscarried.”

Finally, Nesta looks up. Cassian’s normally dark skin is paler than Nesta has ever seen it. His hands are trembling with shock. “No,” she says shakily, with tears in her eyes, “She was stillborn.”

With that, Nesta turns and walks back down the alley towards the parking lot and her car. But before she gets out of earshot, she hears Cassian says one more thing in a broken voice.

“She?”

 ………………………………………

 Cassian can barely speak by the time he makes it back into the restaurant. When he sits down with a broken look on his face, all Feyre asks is, “She told you?” 

When he nods, Feyre tells him the rest. She tells him how Nesta had finally admitted to Feyre and Elain, during a fit of crying after Cassian had gone, of her true feelings for him. She had been in love with him since high school graduation. She explains the way that their mother’s death affected Nesta when they were younger, and how that most likely led to her choked-up reaction on the night that he told her he loved her. 

She tells him of how, instead of giving up, when she found out she was pregnant, Nesta picked herself up – she had a new purpose. Feyre tells Cassian how Nesta took to the early stages of motherhood with a little anxiety and a lot of joy. She tells him about the call from the hospital at 3AM. Nesta had gone into labor at 7 ½ months. She tells him about the 36 hour labor, and the blood, and the screaming. 

She tells him about the panic that filled the hospital room when the new arrival didn’t make a sound. About the efforts that the whole hospital team went to in order to save the baby. But it wasn’t enough. She tells him how Nesta reacted to the loss, and how she shut down and withdrew into herself. And lastly, she tells him where to find Nesta. The second door on the right. The spare bedroom.  

………………………………………

She’s curled on the rug beside the crib in the dim nursery, a tiny stuffed animal clutched in her hands. She’s facing the door, and Cassian can see her red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked cheeks illuminated by the light coming from the hallway.

He doesn’t know what to say, or what to do. He can’t believe...he had been so selfish. Of course she had called him for a reason. _She loved him. She didn’t know how to say it. She needed him. They needed him. And he wasn’t there._ He hadn’t been there to watch her stomach grow, or to hold her hand during labor. The sight of her, and of the empty nursery, brings a choked sob up his throat.

He falls to his knees on the floor in front of her. Now he can see that the stuffed animal she clutches in her hands is a small bat. _Of course,_ he thinks. When Nesta and Cassian were kids, no more than 6, they used to run around their yards in the dark, flapping their arms and screeching, pretending that they were bats using echolocation. Ever since then, bats had been something special between them. Cassian had 5 bat-themed birthday parties in grade school.

Nesta’s eyes scrunch shut, and her body shudders with sobs. She lets the stuffed bat fall and reaches for his hands, and he gathers her into his arms.

“She was my little girl, Cass. She was my little girl, and I never even got to hear her cry, or see the color of her eyes, or change a diaper, or put those tiny sandals that Feyre bought for her on her tiny little feet. I never got to take her _home_ ,” Nesta says between sobs, her words breaking with the agony in her voice.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Nesta,” Cassian murmurs, tears of his own streaking down his face. He gently rocks her in his arms. Their tears soak each others’ shirts, and Cassian whispers the same words over and over again.

 

_I’m sorry._

_I’m so sorry._

_I’m sorry._

_I’m so, so sorry…_

 

But as the two of them lie on the nursery floor, clutching each other, they begin to heal.

Slowly. But together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos welcome :)


End file.
